There are many in Britannia who are attracted to the study of magic. For most, pursuit of such knowledge is formalized in the Lycaeum; a huge library and center of science. The halls of traditional study were never for Penrose, however, he felt a raw and primal connection to the magic of the land that ran deeper than those who previously attempted to teach him. He struck out on his own to discover what already called to him. Merek traveled the world, seeking the wisdom of powerful mystics, necromancers, and druids - anyone who had something to share beyond what was taught in the city-state of Moonglow. When he had learned all he could from these fonts of wisdom, Merek turned to seek the lost, forgotten, and forbidden knowledge in the world, delving into mystical arts where others feared to tread. Penrose sailed far and wide with a small hired crew of unlawful beings. One night, as they sailed through the arctic waters, strange lights danced over the frozen wastes. There was something hypnotic about them; it drew them to it like moths to a flame. Trekking across the frozen expanse, they came to a cave covered in ancient runes. The meaning of the runes long lost to them, Merek led the way inside. There, inside a perfect cage of ice floated a dancing column of flame. There was no way such a thing should be burning, especially not in this place. Yet there it was and its movement was as hypnotic as a siren's song, both captivating and seductive. While the others stayed back, Penrose could not help but approach it while holding out his hand... That was the last time Penrose's unlawful band was seen. Merek himself was dually devoured and reborn in the fire. Spells were burned to his flesh, his body, permanently infusing his being with vast arcane power. In the end, for better or for ill, his need to bond with the mystical energies of Britannia was fulfilled.